


I am Your Destiny, I’m Your Cure

by servatia83



Series: Limit [1]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: M/M, spones - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-24
Updated: 2016-01-24
Packaged: 2018-05-15 23:40:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5804860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/servatia83/pseuds/servatia83
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oneshot. Just before his and Spock's anniversary, Len realises that their relationship isn't quite as it used to be. Kind of AU simply because I couldn't fit it into a timeframe. Perhaps an instead-of-Gol scenario?<br/>Includes a picture drawn by my mother for this purpose.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I am Your Destiny, I’m Your Cure

**Author's Note:**

> ((Originally published in Spiced Peaches XXXVII.  
> The title is from the song Limit by the Ukrainian band Delia. I’m currently obsessing over the Ukrainian language, which is why I stumbled across the band. The song is English, though (or Russian as Предель, if you’re into that kind of thing), and I recommend listening to it in advance because it actually prompted this. The first stanza is Len’s, the seconds Spock’s if you will. Kind of AU simply because I couldn’t fit it into a timeframe. Perhaps an instead-of-Gol scenario?))

Leonard stood frozen, his hand clutching thin air where moments before there had been a housekeeping book. He was all ears, completely caught up, while the book lay neglected on the floor. His favourite radio station had that programme called _Unheard_ where they played very rare songs, usually focussing on one period of time in each broadcast. Today was early 21 st century, if he was any judge of it, and so far nothing had caught his attention. It was just something to keep the silence away. But this … this song told him something about himself.

He was a tyrant. He had talked Spock out of going back into space with Jim. He had talked him into teaching. But did he reward the man by being extra good to him? No. No way. He rewarded him by berating him whenever he had a chance and by generally making life hard for him.

The door opening and closing brought Leonard out of his reverie. ‘Hi, Spock,’ he called, finding that his voice sounded … off. He silenced the radio and walked into the corridor, hell-bent on changing everything. Their anniversary was in less than week. Until then, he decided, all would be well again. ‘How’re you doing, love?’

Spock’s gaze was slightly suspicious. ‘Have you been drinking?’

Anger flared in Leonard’s guts. ‘No, damn it. Why the hell would you ask that?’ A part of him cringed at his tone, but the accusation was so unfair that it was justified. Wasn’t it?

The Vulcan’s face settled into the mask of indifference he was used to these days. It didn’t matter anyway. He could be nice or yell, all he got was that cold, distant look. No matter how deeply he cut, he never got a reaction. ‘I am uncertain. I find that your behaviour is perfectly regular, after all.’ With that, Spock walked away towards his bedroom.

His bedroom … Just when had they stopped sharing one bedroom? Two months ago? No, that was longer. Leonard honestly didn’t know. Like some externally controlled robot, he walked back into the kitchen and picked up the housekeeping book before sinking into a chair. They had always bickered. It had never been real, it was their way of flirting. When had that changed? Because it had.

The teasing had turned more serious, the insults graver. Spock had started retreating behind his Vulcan mask after Leonard had managed to goad him out of it. He had been so determined about that, how could he have pushed him back into this cage of his?

Way back when, on the few occasions their fights were genuine, when they’d had sex afterwards it was beautiful, gentle make-up sex. That too had changed, had given way to something more aggressive, until their lovemaking was more a continuation of a fight than a resolve and hardly deserved that word. And then they had ceased to do it altogether. Leonard wasn’t sure when they had last slept together, but he knew that he’d felt so empty afterwards.

Wistfully he opened the book and glanced at the date of their anniversary. Aching inside, deliberately, he scratched out the name of the restaurant where they had decided to celebrate. They’d settled for that place when they had still been good, or perhaps at the beginning of the decline. He’d cancel the reservation. Then Leonard made a mental note to look for another place to live. Carefully placing the book in its shelf, he followed Spock upstairs. This had to end. Right now.

With his heart aching, Leonard stared at the back of his lover’s skull. ‘Spock, we’ve got to talk.’

Black eyes met his. There was nothing there. No feeling, no love. ‘What is it you wish to discuss?’

‘I’ve been thinking … we don’t really need the reservation at Madame Claire’s.’

‘It is indeed a waste of time and resources.’

Something died inside Leonard, some small voice insisting that Spock was going to do something wonderful to change his mind. ‘Yes, Spock. And I am leaving you.’

‘Ah. I see.’

‘That all you gonna say?’ Spock merely raised an eyebrow and returned his attention to whatever it was he had been doing. ‘I’ll find somewhere else tonight. I can’t stay here.’ He swallowed. ‘I love you. I really do. But I can’t keep doing this.’

‘Then you should not.’ Silence again. Feeling lost, Leonard decided to leave, but Spock spoke again. ‘You have a strange way of showing affection.’

‘Well, why should I show you if it’s completely lost on you anyway,’ he muttered.

Spock’s shoulders squared and he turned. Here it was coming, the final blow that would make this easier at least, one final insult to chase him away for good. ‘I regret that you should think so,’ Spock said. Nothing else, no Vulcan version of bidding him good riddance. And for the first time in months, there was a flicker of emotion on that face.

Something stirred deep inside Leonard’s soul, something frightening and ominous that threatened his resolve. He felt his eyes burning but he couldn’t turn away, couldn’t avert his gaze.

‘I …’ he began but faltered. ‘I love you,’ he said again.

Spock rose and approached him slowly, stopping more than one arm’s length away. ‘Leonard, I cannot believe that you do. You are used to my presence, but love is something quite different.’ The dam broke. Tears leaked from Leonard’s eyes and he slid down the doorframe, hugging his knees and pressing his forehead against them. ‘Leonard. Len.’ A hand landed on his shoulder, squeezing gently.

Pride and anger – for once directed at himself – gave way to pure instinct and he lunged, flinging his arms around the taut frame of the Vulcan. ‘God, but I do. Only that’s not enough, is it?’

Ever so gently, Spock pushed him away. ‘Indeed. It takes more than love. It takes respect, understanding, compromise.’

‘And I offered you none of that,’ Leonard whispered. ‘Why is it I who’s doing the leaving?’ He couldn’t stop himself, took Spock’s face in both of his hands, even if he knew his touch was no longer welcome. ‘Do you think there’s still a chance?’

‘Not the way we are heading.’ Spock plucked the hands from his cheeks, breaking Leonard’s heart a little more.

‘I half wanted to go back into space,’ Leonard said softly. ‘Part of me did. really. I only fought you because you wanted it. I wasn’t sure, you were definite, so I had to contradict. Why were you letting me do this to you?’

‘To be honest, I should have informed you that I did not do as you asked. I have accepted the position of science officer. I was leaving. But you have more courage than I do. You told me. I do not believe I would have. I would simply have departed and never returned.’ Leonard wanted to leave, but now he realised that although Spock had removed his hands from his face, he was still holding them. Not too firmly to get away, but since this was their last moment of physical contact he wanted to savour it. ‘Answer me one question before you go, please. What made you decide to leave?’

Leonard shrugged. He did pull his hands away now. For a second he thought there was disappointment on Spock’s face, but then the moment passed. ‘Your accusation, me thinking, and the radio.’ Leonard swallowed. ‘At first I still thought we could make this work. I thought if I changed tack, now, hard, we’d pull through. I was going to … I don’t know, tell you of my plans. I was gonna say if you want to go back to Jim I’ll follow because really, we had a great time together on the first mission. I was flying by the seat of my pants, Spock. I’d only just realised what I’d been doing and I thought until our anniversary I’d make things better.’

‘Our current situation is not the result of your actions only,’ Spock replied. ‘I retreated rather than confront you about what was happening. I allowed this by rebuilding the walls you had torn down so patiently years ago. I shut you out of my life, withdrew from you too fast and too thoroughly.’ All Leonard managed was a nod. He didn’t trust himself with speech right now. ‘I wish to tell you that I also still love you. I am sorry that it ends this way.’

‘I’m gonna miss you,’ Leonard said at last, and it was as he feared: His voice broke.

‘Did you believe that five days were going to change everything?’

A humourless laugh escaped Leonard’s lips. ‘No. But it would have been a start.’

‘How?’ When he started to speak, Spock shook his head. ‘Telling is never as impressive as showing.’

‘I don’t have the nerve for playing games right now, Spock. Sorry.’

‘Is that what it would have been to you?’

The pain was audible in the deep voice, and Leonard regretted his choice of words. The thing that had raised its head a while before surged again, and he realised what it was: hope. Foolish, uncalled-for hope. ‘God, no,’ he said emphatically. ‘I’m simply uncertain what outcome you believe this scenario can have other than make this more difficult than it already is. Unless that is the plan. To make it difficult. As in to … make me reconsider? To make me make you reconsider?’ He knew the stupid hope had crept into his voice, fear close at its heel.

And then it happened. Spock’s mask slipped, just a little. It was nothing more than a small shift in the forbidding features, an infinitesimal crinkling at the corner of Spock’s right eye, but it was there. Fixing his gaze on Spock’s, he reached out and caught the beautiful, long-fingered hands. After looking at them for a second, he brought them to his lips and kissed them. ‘What … do you want to do? God, Spock, help me out here. Do you wish to try this? Give me a chance?’ Leonard was only that far from begging him. But as much as he wanted to, he couldn’t do that. Spock had to meet him halfway if this was to happen.

‘Why should I think that anything will change?’

‘Because we had something wonderful, Spock. We were great together. We just … I don’t know. We’re not the first couple caught in a downward spiral. And we sure as hell wouldn’t be the first to break out of it. It’s just so late I don’t know if it isn’t …’

‘Too late,’ Spock said calmly. ‘Do you wish to know what I think?’ Bracing himself, Leonard nodded. ‘I think that the last possible moment to make that change was when I came home today.’

‘So now it’s too late?’

There it was again, something around Spock’s eyes that looked so much like a minute version of a Vulcan smile, the one he did just with his eyes. Leonard held his hands more tightly, praying silently that he wasn’t misreading him after such a long time of only seeing the worst. ‘You acted. It is the nature of a downward spiral that both parties fail to change the pattern. But you tried. I did not react to that, at least not in an acceptable manner. Therefore the first question must be: Would you forgive me?’

Intertwining his fingers with Spock’s, Leonard nodded. ‘Yes,’ he said and meant it.

Withdrawing his hands, Spock let out a deep breath and sat across from him, his back against the other beam of the doorframe. His legs were parted because there was no room for them in that place otherwise, his feet on either side of Leonard’s. He rested his arms on his knees, extending his hands, and Leonard took them again. For minutes they just sat there, Leonard’s thumbs caressing the palms of Spock’s hands. After a while, the silence ceased to be uncomfortable and he looked up, encountering that gentle expression in the Vulcan’s eyes, and this time Leonard was certain. He answered with a huge if slightly tearful smile. ‘So how do we do this?’ he asked.

‘We have already started, Len.’ Spock’s voice caressed his very soul. ‘We have done much damage. Often you with words and I with silence, occasionally the other way around. It will take time to repair that damage. But there are a few things we can do – must do if we seriously wish to save us. I will start by turning Jim down.’

‘No, don’t do that, honey.’ He flushed. He had no idea when he had last called Spock that and was immediately worried it was too soon for that. Spock raised an eyebrow but didn’t seem to mind. ‘I’ll come with you. If you want me to. I do want to.’

‘We will be trapped together on a ship for five years. What if this does not work?’

‘It will if we do it right. It’s not for lack of love that we fell apart. A problem of behaviour rather than absence of emotion. At least on my part?’

The reassurance he needed so much came at once. ‘Not only yours, Leonard. I will then let Jim know that he can either have us both or neither one if he already has a CMO. I am not leaving without you.’

‘Thank you. Would be hard to fix this with lightyears between us. I got a starting point, too. We’ve got to stop assuming the worst of each other. We’re both great at that.’

‘Please elaborate.’

‘So if you say something I could find offensive, I’ll ask you to explain rather than just assume you’re hurting me on purpose.’

‘As will I. I have to admit, I did not think of it that way, but this is a mistake we both made.’

‘A big one, I’d say the one that led to this mess. I know you care. How could this happen?’

‘It is not very logical, and yet I find myself guilty as well. I have something else we have to change.’

‘What’s that?’

‘I believe we should resume sharing sleeping accommodations. I believed if I slept alone, you would notice that we are losing something vital.’

‘Closeness, emotional and physical.’

‘I should have realised that you are not one to beg. That you would not run after me. This one is my fault alone. I am sorry.’

‘Spock, I’m too depressed to sleep with you, but I’ll gladly … well, sleep with you. I mean literally.’

What had remained of the mask melted away, and Spock smiled. He very rarely full-on smiled, but now he did, the look on his face warm and full of love. ‘Can I answer your previous questions?’

‘You just did answer them all, but sure. I wanna hear it.’

Spock shifted until he sat next to Leonard and pulled him against him. After a moment of hesitation, Leonard relaxed against the strong chest. ‘My answers are yes, I do believe there is a chance. I wish to try this, and I do give you a chance because I can see that you are sincere. I also wish to thank you for doing the same for me.’

Leonard looked at the face he loved so much. He leaned forwards and placed a chaste, tender kiss on Spock’s lips. ‘You’re welcome, honey.’

Spock took him by his hand and led him over to the bed he had placed in this room. Leonard had never slept in it, but now Spock slipped under the covers and invited him to join him. Leonard lay down by his side and was pulled close. He fell asleep almost as soon as his head touched the pillow.

Ϡ

Leonard awoke alone in the bed and for one moment he thought it had all been a dream. Then he realised that this was not _his_ bed, which meant it must have been real. Spock was nowhere to be seen, and he felt suddenly afraid that the Vulcan had changed his mind and left. Heart beating like a sledgehammer, he padded downstairs. He found Spock in the kitchen, looking up at the sound of naked feet on the tiles. Insecurity must have been etched into every line of his face, because Spock immediately put down the PADD he’d been holding and took him into his arms. He felt a kiss being placed on top of his head. ‘Morning, Spock,’ he said sheepishly.

‘Good morning, beloved.’ Oh, how long he hadn’t heard that. ‘Jim had already found someone but will see that the necessary changes are made. We are going out to space again. Together.’

Leonard beamed at Spock. He threaded his fingers through the shiny black hair and watched the brown eyes close, enjoying the tender touch. ‘Wonderful,’ Leonard said. ‘Let me take care of breakfast.’

The Vulcan’s eyes remained shut when he spoke. ‘I already have. Coffee for you, tea for myself. I ordered bakery goods that should arrive any moment.’ At last, he looked again. ‘I missed you, Len.’

‘God, yeah. You were there all the time and I didn’t see you.’

‘I … was not here, in a manner of speaking. I shut you out.’ Leonard felt his lower lip tremble. He quickly dug his face into Spock’s chest to hide his outburst. Spock’s hand caressing the back of his head told him that of course he knew anyway. ‘Len, look at me.’ He did. ‘I give us one year to sort us out. We will not need that long to recover, but at this moment I believe it is a suitable amount of time. If our relationship is truly functional after that year, I wish to … I wish to bond with you. I am confident that we both will by then, but right now I at least do not feel the necessary security for something so permanent.’

‘Course you don’t,’ Leonard said roughly, causing Spock to go rigid in his arms. Something nasty inside him wanted to pull away out of habit, but instead he just held the Vulcan tighter to stop them both from doing just that. Yes, it hurt that Spock immediately misunderstood, but right now he had no reason to do otherwise. Leonard caressed his back and looked at him, into those dear eyes, and his anger drained away like so much water after a heavy rain. ‘I didn’t give you any security, did I, now.’ The other man relaxed. ‘God, we’ve both lost that. You and me. But we’ll get it back. Tomorrow, if I wake up alone, I’ll know you haven’t gone far. Tomorrow, if I say something like this, you’ll know what I really mean. In a year, such thoughts won’t even cross our minds. We’ll look back at this day, this very moment, and hold on to each other and renew the promise never to let this happen again. I know that. You know why?’

‘No, but I have a feeling you will tell me.’

‘Because we were always good for each other, those past few months aside. For three and a half years, we did everything for each other, we shared so much, we showed each other how we feel. I’ll bond with you, and we’ll be together for the rest of our lives. I’m meant to get those beautiful emotions out of you and bask in them. And you’re meant to show me that emotion without control is poison for the soul. I’m your destiny and your cure, Spock, and I’ll never limit you.’

‘Very poetic, Len. I did not know you had it in you.’ There it was. The teasing. And there was no doubt that it was a demonstration of love, not disregard. Leonard should say something witty now, but he couldn’t. He just laughed. Both slanted eyebrows vanished behind black bangs. Then Spock shook his head at the illogical human and planted a kiss on his forehead. Whatever remaining doubt there had been went up in smoke. They’d be fine.

 


End file.
